• I’m Sorry.

    by  • July 11, 2011 • Confession • 0 Comments

    I’m sorry. I can’t love you. It’s because I love him. It’s so hard to forget, when he sends me links to Gregory and the Hawk, and waves her in front of my face. Sometimes I don’t think I miss him, and I miss the baby I thought we had. It’s weird, there never was a baby, but the three weeks I thought there was I started to love it. He priced abortions, and I priced baby furniture in Ikea. That killed me. You see I lied to him and told him I didn’t have it because he threatened to kill himself. For those three weeks I thought it was me and the baby against the big scary world. But it didn’t come. I guess when I see you, and how young and carefree you are, I can’t stop thinking about how it used to be. You’re such a sweetheart, but you’re not him. I never told you this, because you wouldn’t understand. I know you think I’m using you, but what could I use you for? You just won’t let go. I don’t know why. I’m so horrible to you. To every male that comes near me. I can’t let anyone in too close. He broke me. I’m pretty sure you can’t fix me.

    And You,
    After those years. You know how deep in there you got. Telling me all your problems. I was always there. But then you got bored, and you got better. As soon as you’re better of course you ran away. I was your girlfriend. I love you. Not your personal free psychologist. I can’t believe you did that to me. You started to talk to her. In front of me. With the baby. Were you trying to kill me? I sat there. I took it. We fought, but everyone fights. I mean you gave out I never shouted? I was so upset. I couldn’t shout at you. You meant too much. You were my everything. So that night, after telling me you didn’t love me as much you had the audacity to ask me to see you the next day “too see if you were still in love with me”. Walking me home from work. I wanted to vomit. Or cry. You didn’t know about the baby. “You seem tense..I might not dump you”. So I kissed your mouth. You told me it felt like cheating on someone. After all that time. You simply told me you didn’t love me anymore.

    How could you?

    I wish I could open you up, put the pain inside of me into you for five seconds. I took painkillers for it, I drank Vodka with them. Anything to ease the pain. I was so scared. I was too young to be a mother. You just ran away to her. You left me. I was only fifteen. How could you?

    You still trap me. Still. I hate you for it. Stop killing me.

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